THE GOLDEN AGE
By
Christopher O’Kennon
© Copyright 2010 Chris O’Kennon and BKP Books
The people, events, and places in this book are a work of fiction or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to persons, events, or places living or dead is purely coincidental. This book may not be copied or distributed without permission.
Published by BKP Books, an imprint of Big Kahuna Ventures LLC.
PO Box 1146, Mechanicsville, VA 23111
My son says the same thing every night as I put him to bed. It’s our little mantra before sleep comes to claim us.
“I wish people had super powers.”
I smile the same smile I give him every night as I lean over and kiss his forehead. “Like what?”
“Like super strength, or flying, or a magic ring.”
My son is eight years old, and even though the world has changed a lot since his mother died, it is still composed of pretty basic constructs. There’s good, and there’s evil. Right and wrong. Strong and weak.
Normally I follow up with, “I’m afraid the world isn’t like that.” He would pout a bit, not really serious, and go to sleep. Tonight, though, I surprised myself by asking, “Why?”
“So good people can win.”
“So good people can win…” I repeated. Good people. I could feel my shoulders slump and the energy start to drain from me like warm syrup. But instead of tucking my son in to bed and leaving to begin work on a new bottle of Bailey’s, I pulled up one of his small chairs and sat close to his bed. He perched up on one elbow, watching me.
“Some people did have super powers,” I said, and watched his eyes grow wide.
“Really?” he asked with complete acceptance in that way that only children can. He was prepared to believe or not believe based solely on what I said next.
“Yes. Not a lot of people, but some.”
“Did they do wonderful things?”
“Some did. Some didn’t.” I rubbed my eyes. Might as well go all the way, I thought. “Let me tell you a story. You just lay back and listen. Okay?” He nodded rapidly.
“Once, not that long ago, there were people with super powers. They were rare, but they were definitely there. Some had super strength, some had the ability to fly, and some could do other impressive things. At first they were shy about revealing themselves. They did good deeds only when they felt they could do so without being seen. Then they created secret identities so they could help people without worrying about being traced back to their homes. It was the golden age of civilized man. We had never been so safe.
“But not all of the supers were good. Most, but not all. And there was one bad super who was worse than all the others. He called himself Statesman. It was hard to tell exactly what his power was, some said it was the ability to persuade people. Some said it was his super intellect. Maybe it was both. Whatever it was, he couldn’t compete in a fair fight with the good guys, and he knew it. They would have mopped up the street with him.